


Spoopy Haunted Cabin

by Emptynarration



Series: Porn stuff [19]
Category: Youtube RPF, Youtube egos
Genre: Alcohol, Angry Sex, Ghost Sex, Ghosts, Haunted Houses, Laughter, Mirrors, Orgasm, Other, Reader-Insert, Roasting, Sex, Spooky, alcohol mention, not gendered reader, reader is tipsy, second part is nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:48:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27313594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emptynarration/pseuds/Emptynarration
Summary: 3 one word prompts - mirror, haunted house, ghostsplus nsfw part after ~~
Relationships: The Host/reader, the host/y/N
Series: Porn stuff [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1467592
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Spoopy Haunted Cabin

**Author's Note:**

> from tumblr wished

You had heard this place was supposed to be haunted.

Now, you were a little tipsy perhaps, having drunk a little for a while before, and now you decided to go and investigate. Feeling a little woozy, texting your friend became a bit of a challenge. If only because your thumbs seemed to want to press different letters from what you wanted to press, and so you made a couple of typos.

But well, no one seemed to want to stop you -or maybe it was because you texted your friend in the middle of the goddamn night. So you decided to go and visit that supposedly haunted house. A cabin, actually, as you had to walk through the damn forest. Your tipsy self wasn’t happy about it, feeling a little unsteady on your feet, but that was fine.

Finding the cabin finally, you gingerly pushed open the door. “Is there a fucking ghost here or what?”, you immediately called out, looking into the dark hallway. You could spot four closed doors, a couple of drawings in frames on the walls of the hall, and at the end, you could see a mirror shining its light back at you.

Huffing, you make your way into the first door. Behind is a living room, with a fireplace, and a connected kitchen. You look around curiously, but there is nothing there, only dust covering everything. So you continue your journey into the opposite door, which leads to a library, or study? A mix of the two. You see a desk when you enter, and a lot of bookshelves with books behind it in the rest of the room. Walking to the desk, you find a set-up for recording. Mix table, microphone, headphones, such things. Not noticing anything interesting, you look at all the many many books, seeing many with the name “The Author” written in golden letters on their spines. You’ve read some of these books -you wonder if this person enjoyed these books as well. Whoever had lived here, once before.

When you’re just about to leave the room, a sound of static suddenly fills your ears. Looking back into the room, the desk is alight with the tech sitting on it glowing in its readiness. Grumbling to yourself, you walk over.   
“Stop this fuckery, stupid ass ghost.”, you mutter, not having any sort of fear in you in your tipsy state. You’re just done with the world, you’re bored as fuck, and none of your friends want to talk with you about anything. Not that you’re not used to that to some degree, but still.

Leaving the room, you make your way to the end of the hall, with another two doors. At the end, there’s the mirror you’ve seen earlier. Looking into it, only your reflection looks back at you, so you decide not to care any further. It’s just you and yourself in here, so when you turn to the next room to look into, you don’t notice your reflection looking after you, instead of mirroring you.

Opening the door, you find a bathroom. Boring. You do see the blood staining the entire sink though, the blood that had dripped from the floor. The mirror above the sink was shattered, the pieces laying in the sink and on the floor. There’s blood staining some of them, so maybe the person living here had shattered it in rage, or something or other. You’ve never done it yourself, but you’ve read books and stories where people punched mirrors and they broke. So why shouldn’t this be the case now? You find some bloody bandages hanging out of the trashcan as well, though they look really old and dirty, so you don’t inspect them further. Instead, you leave the room, to go to the opposite door.

While you pass the mirror, you could swear you saw something other than your own light and your own reflection. But looking at the rest of the hall, and the mirror again, there’s nothing unusual.   
“Fucking hell. You couldn’t be more subtle if you tried, could you?”, you scoff, pushing open the door to what you’d believe to be a bedroom. You hadn’t seen one yet, after all. And you were right, finding the small bedroom there, with nothing of interest. A somewhat tiny bed, a drawer, a small closet. There really was nothing interesting in this damn cabin, was there? Except for a bit of blood, apparently. And well, that mirror in the hall also seemed to be fucking with you.

Stepping back out into the hall, you first looked down into it, seeing all the closed doors again -of course you closed them behind yourself, you weren’t _that_ stupid. And then you looked into the mirror, where a man a head or two taller than you stood behind your reflection, his face stained with blood, as it ran down from his empty eyesockets. You couldn’t help it, in your tipsy state all you could do was bark a laugh at the creepy fucker’s grin.   
“Really? That’s all? Fucking hell dude you’re less scary than my dad.”, you laughed, swaying a little as your balance was clearly affected from your tipsy state.

The man -or ghost, you supposed?- frowned as you laughed at him, making you shake even more with it, clutching your stomach as you laughed. Go-ho- _od_ \- Dude fucking hell! You’re not very terrifying!”, you giggled, trying to calm down at least a little, straightening out your back again to look into the mirror. Your reflection was gone completely, replaced by the ghost, with crossed-arms and a very displeased expression.   
“Come _on!_ No eyes? Really? I’ve seen better horror movies from the eighties than this shit!”, you snorted in amusement, unable to keep more giggles and little laughs at bay.

You would guess that the ghost wasn’t going to take it well, but what was it to do against you? It hadn’t really done much spooky shit yet!

The mirror suddenly shattered, exploding in a million little sparkling pieces, reflecting the light of your flashlight. Before its glass, too, shattered in a small explosion, making you drop the now useless thing.   
“H-hey-! We can- talk with out?”, you tried, laughing a bit more nervously now. You felt cold, wet hands on you, one wrapped around your throat, the other gripping your chin -as if someone was behind you.   
“The Host doesn’t take it well to be laughed at.”, a voice whispered into your ear.

~~

The Host’s hands were ice-cold, gripping tightly at your throat and chin, forcing you back against the cold body behind you. You could feel the blood coating his hands, smearing over your skin, making you shudder. “Wish I had more alcohol right now.”, You muttered, or maybe you had just thought it. You weren’t exactly sure, truthfully. All you knew was, that you weren’t nearly drunk enough for this. “Why did Y/N decide to come to the Host’s domain?”, Host murmured into your ear, sending cold shivers down your spine. You couldn’t help feeling too scared though -maybe it was the alcohol in your system, maybe it was your always incredibly high libido, maybe it was just you being extremely lonely and not having been touched kindly by another being in years.

“Was bored. Am tipsy. I dunno dude. But you’re really not the spookiest ghost.”, though meeting one was certainly a little scary. But you were far too tipsy to really give a shit -your pulse may be high, and you may feel your heart pound, but who was to say whose fault that was? Host scoffed, his grip on your throat tightening to make your breath wheezy, but your brain was only offering one thing to you know. And with being tipsy your thoughts went _straight_ through your mouth. “Kinky.”.

It seemed startling to Host, as his grip relaxed some, before he suddenly shoved you against the wall, a hand behind your head to press it into the empty mirror frame, smearing blood all onto your scalp. The other hand was pressing against your back, keeping you right in place. “Is that what Y/N is here for? For some sexual reason?”, Host _growled,_ and it send shivers down your spine -but this time not out of fright. In your state, you couldn’t help back the giggles, even as your position was a little uncomfortable. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind some ghost dick.”, you giggled, wiggling your ass a little bit. Who could blame you? Getting some ghost to fuck you seemed rather good in your tipsy state, and really, you were really craving someone to fuck you. Happens when you don’t have a partner who would do that. Or any partner at all.

Host growled, but, it seemed like he wasn’t opposed to the idea either. Or maybe you were dreaming. Were you? Maybe you were still at home, taking shot after shot, drinking yourself stupid, and imagining some ghost was out there who’d fuck you. But Host was yanking down your pants, his hand from your back moving to grab and grope at your ass. You shamelessly moaned, not having been touched by another person in so fucking long -you really wanted a partner, no matter if romantic or not. You just wanted some sex, was that too much to ask for? Masturbating only got so interesting.

“Y/N is really desperate, hm?”, Host’s voice was a low tone, nearly whispering in your ear, making you shudder. All you wanted was to get fucked, and you felt absolutely no shame in that. “Yes! Just fucking fuck me, dude!”, you whined, just wanting to be fucked right now. All you wanted was some ghost dick at the moment, and you were damn well getting it! Or you were going to leave and tell everyone what a fucking laughable ghost Host was!!

“ _Fine.”,_ Host growled, and his bloody fingers were pushing into you, making you gasp and moan as he roughly finger-fucked you. You clenched around his fingers, feeling how cold he was, how his ghostly being was all just cold as ice. “Fuck me Host! _Please!”_ , you begged, whining when he scissored his fingers inside of you, stretching your hole to make it less painful. The blood was gross, but then it also wasn’t _real_ , so it just _felt_ cold and wet and slimy, and definitely wouldn’t leave a mark on you. Definitely. Soon Host pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine, feeling aroused and desperate. Thankfully it seemed like Host wasn’t going to waste any more time -no, instead he was soon thrusting into you, making you scream.

“Y/N fucking wanted it, so Y/N will fucking _get it_.”, Host growled angrily, thrusting hard and sharply into you, making you sob and moan loudly as pleasure filled your head. You didn’t think ghost dick could feel quite as good, but well, apparently ghost cock felt fucking _amazing. “Fuck- o_ h god _Host_ -!”, you cried, feeling the ghost slamming into you repeatedly, hitting your sweet spot as if he knew where it was exactly. There was nothing better than this -you couldn’t imagine someone fucking you better than Host was. “Stupid fucking humans, believing they’re better than the Host. Just because he’s a ghost, doesn’t mean he is helpless!”, Host growled angrily, each thrust making you move, face pressed uncomfortably against the wall as Host’s hand fisted your hair.

“Please- fucking hell _HOST!”,_ you screamed when you came, clenching and twitching around the ghost’s cock inside of you, thick and filling you so well. It made you shake, sobbing in pleasure as Host fucked you right through your orgasm. Host growled angrily, until his pounding became unsteady and stuttering, and he finally came as well. Filling you with ice-cold ectoplasmic _cum,_ making you sob and feel nothing but pleasure. It felt absolutely wonderful, no matter if this was real or fake. It felt good, and that was all that mattered to you.


End file.
